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nausicaamusiclover20 · 13 days ago

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Hello))) this is partially inspired by the anon’s request, who was watching soap operas with her grandma - I’m the same 😂

So maybe reader comes from family with money, not like millionaires, but her dad is one of Californias top divorce lawyers so he definitely makes good cash. Of course her parents are not fans of James, up to the point where they cut her off because she refused to break up with him. But she takes it well, works as waitress at diner as she’s happy being with James. However, after Metallica’s first tour in 83, he confessed that he cheated with girls on the road - exactly what her father warned her about. So she kinda doesn’t have any option but to go back to her family. However, her father does forgive her and takes her back.

A few years later in 90s, when Lars is divorcing Debbie (his first wife), guess who’s Debbie’s attorney? She wins the case so at some point she comes to the studio so Lars can sign the papers for Debbie to get her part of money; and James is pissed and calls her cynical and cold hearted but she tells him it’s his fault and how she gave everything away to be with him and he went out to sleep with groupies? He feels guilty cause she’s right - he couldn’t keep it in his pants and a few days later calls the law firm she’s working at as he wants to reconcile and cheating was the worst thing he had done???

I thought I’d be brief but ended up with too much details I’m sorry if it’s weird 🥹🥹🥹

I don't know if it's what you were looking for, but I hope you like it 💕

Rewrite the past

I never thought I’d find myself back here, in my father’s office, staring at the walls lined with framed degrees, each one a testament to his relentless ambition. From the outside, my family looked perfect—money, influence, respect. My father was one of California’s top divorce lawyers, the kind of man who made sure everyone knew how hard he’d worked to give us the life we had. I never wanted for anything, but the privilege came at a cost.

When I met James, he was the one thing in my life that felt real, unpolished. He was wild, raw, unapologetically himself, and in a world of well-manicured facades, he was a breath of fresh air. I knew my parents wouldn’t understand, but I didn’t care. They wanted me with someone safe, someone respectable. But I wanted him.

It wasn’t long before the clashes started. My parents despised him—the loud music, the chaos, the risk. They tried everything to pull me away, and when I refused, when I told them that James was who I wanted, they finally drew a hard line.

“If you stay with him, you’re on your own,” my father had said, his tone cold, final. “You’re turning your back on everything we’ve given you.”

The words stung, but I chose James anyway. I took a job at a diner, working double shifts to pay rent on a cramped apartment, doing whatever it took to make things work. It wasn’t glamorous, but I was happy—at least, I thought I was.

Then Metallica went on their first tour. I didn’t hear much from James while he was on the road, and I tried to brush off the nagging worries in my mind. But when he finally came back, he looked different. There was a distance between us, something broken in his gaze. I’d barely gotten a chance to hold him before he pulled away and admitted the truth.

“I cheated,” he said, the words falling out like stones. “There were… girls on the road. I don’t even remember half of them.”

My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest. All the warnings my father had given me, every condescending “I told you so” I’d ignored—it was all crashing down around me. I’d fought so hard to keep this, to prove to myself, to everyone, that we were real, that we could make it work.

And yet, here he was, proving all of them right.

I didn’t have anything left to hold on to, no safety net. The betrayal was too much, and, broken-hearted, I had no choice but to turn back to the only people who’d ever protected me. My father welcomed me back without hesitation, perhaps knowing he’d won in the end. But even as they opened their doors to me, it didn’t feel like victory. It felt like defeat.

---

The relief I expected didn’t come when I returned to my family. There was only a dull ache, the feeling of failure simmering beneath the surface. The world I’d tried so hard to escape had pulled me back in, and all the independence I’d fought for felt like it had slipped through my fingers.

My father didn’t say “I told you so”—at least not outright. But there was that look in his eyes every time he glanced my way, like he was almost smug about me finally realizing he’d been right all along. My mother, too, seemed relieved, constantly reminding me that I was better off without “someone like him.” They were careful not to bring it up too much, as if to spare me, but every comment felt like a small needle, poking at my decision to love James.

In their eyes, I’d come to my senses. In mine, I’d lost something I couldn’t get back.

As the years passed, I moved forward. I’d put everything into my career in law, following my father’s footsteps, using my pain as fuel to rise through the ranks of his firm. It was hard, grueling, but the satisfaction I got from the victories, the courtroom battles, made it worth it. Winning cases felt like a balm to all the broken pieces I couldn’t quite stitch together. And every time I signed a high-stakes case or handled a tricky negotiation, I could feel my father’s pride. It was almost enough.

But there was still a part of me that wondered what might have been—if he’d been someone who could keep his promises. If we’d managed to build the life I’d imagined with him. Every now and then, I’d hear Metallica on the radio or see an old photo of us tucked away in the back of a drawer, and I’d feel the sting of what we’d lost.

Then came the day when the past decided to walk right back into my life.

It was late, the office winding down for the evening, when my assistant walked in with a stack of documents and a carefully neutral expression.

“Debbie Lars Ulrich's case,” she said, placing the papers on my desk. “The divorce settlement. Lars needs to sign his part.”

I froze for a moment, processing what this meant. Debbie was one of my clients, yes, but the reality of who her soon-to-be ex-husband was—and what that meant—washed over me slowly, sinking in. If Lars was here to sign, James would be nearby. Of course, he would. They were practically family.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and agreed to bring the papers to the studio the following day.

---

When I arrived at the studio, I knew I had to keep myself together. This wasn’t about me; this was business. I walked in, the familiar smell of stale beer and smoke hanging heavy in the air. The studio felt like a time capsule, reminding me of those early days, back when I’d believed in forever.

And then I saw him.

James stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze cutting through me the moment I entered. The years had changed him—sharpened the lines on his face, deepened the shadows under his eyes. But there was a hardness in his expression, a guardedness I hadn’t seen before.

He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “So, you’re the one representing Debbie now?”

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady, professional. “I’m here because Lars needs to sign these.”

He scoffed, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. “That’s all this is, huh? Just a job to you?”

I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Yes, James. This is my job. I’m here for Debbie. What did you expect?”

He shook his head, his gaze narrowing. “I expected you to have some heart left. But I guess you’ve gotten really good at this—cold, calculating.”

My fingers tightened around the documents in my hand, the years of hurt and resentment rushing back. He didn’t get to act like this, not after everything.

“Cold?” I repeated, letting out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich coming from you. I gave up everything for you, James—my family, my life. I was willing to fight for us. And what did you do? You threw it away for a few cheap thrills on the road.”

His face paled, and I could see the flicker of guilt, raw and undeniable, as he struggled to hold my gaze.

“I was young,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I was stupid. I didn’t know what I was risking until it was too late.”

I shook my head, the familiar ache resurfacing as I stared at him. “Do you even realize what you cost me? I had to rebuild my entire life from scratch, and I did it without you. I’m not here to rehash the past or play whatever game you think this is. I’m here because this is what I do. This is who I am now.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time. His shoulders slumped, the bravado fading as he looked down at the floor, defeated. “I didn’t deserve you. I don’t think I ever did.”

“Maybe you didn’t,” I replied, softer now, feeling the weight of every hurt, every broken promise. “But I loved you, James. And I would’ve done anything to make it work. You’re the one who threw it away.”

He nodded, looking at me with that same, aching regret, and for a moment, the years seemed to fall away. We were just two people, tangled up in the remains of a love we couldn’t save.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words barely a whisper. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but… I’m sorry.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to let go of the last fragments of pain, to move on from what we’d lost.

“Goodbye, James,” I said, my voice steady, final.

There are things in life you can’t take back, no matter how desperately you wish you could. Years had passed since we met, but yesterday as I met him again and today I heard his voice cracking over the phone as he spoke the words he’d likely rehearsed a hundred times.

I had been wrapping up the final details on a case, buried in papers and the quiet hum of my small studio in downtown LA. It was my sanctuary—a space I’d built for myself in the years since our breakup. The walls were lined with case files, books, and certificates that whispered of the life I’d carved out alone. The last person I expected to invade this space was James Hetfield.

The phone rang, its sudden chime breaking through the silence. I glanced down, and I answered.

“Hello?” I said, my voice uncertain, testing the waters. I could feel the flutter of my heart in my chest, a mix of excitement and dread.

“Y/N,” he breathed, and the sound of my name on his lips was both familiar and foreign. It sent a rush of emotions through me—nostalgia for the love we once shared, mixed with the sharp pain of betrayal. Memories of our time together flooded my mind, each one a reminder of the happiness we had, intertwined with the heartbreak of his infidelity. I had spent years trying to forget him, yet here he was, a ghost from my past, stirring feelings I thought I had buried deep.

“What do you want, James?” I kept my tone guarded, bracing for whatever might come next, but inside, I was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, longing, and an unshakeable sadness.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice softer than I remembered. “But… Can we talk?”

For a moment, I hesitated. Memories crashed over me like a wave—the days spent dreaming of a future together, the betrayal that shattered it all after his first tour. I’d given up everything for him, only for him to throw it all away.

“What is it you want to talk about?” I asked, my curiosity battling with the pain that lingered. “It’s been years.”

He paused, and when he spoke again, I could hear the weight of regret. “I just… I’m sorry. For everything.”

His words hung in the air, thick with remorse, and old wounds reopened like fresh scars. “James, you did exactly what my father warned me you would. I left my family, gave up everything just to be with you. And you threw it away for girls you don’t even remember.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “It haunts me every day. Cheating was the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t expect you to forgive me… but I needed you to know how sorry I am.”

I ran a hand over the edge of my desk, grounding myself. This was my life now—a life I’d built without him, in this studio that felt as much a part of me as my own skin. I had carved out success and peace, and this chapter of my past had no place in it.

“I’ve moved on, James,” I said finally, my voice low and steady. “This is my life now, and I don’t need the past interrupting it.”

Silence filled the line, but I could almost feel the regret radiating from him, his guilt settling over him like a heavy shadow. He had made his choices, and I had made mine.

But then I thought about the years that had passed, the void where he used to be. I couldn’t deny the flicker of hope igniting inside me. “Maybe... maybe we could talk,” I heard myself say, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

“Really?” His voice was tentative, almost disbelieving.

“Yeah, but only if you’re serious about changing. I won’t go through that again,” I warned, my heart racing with uncertainty.

“I am. I swear,” he replied, urgency creeping into his tone. “I know I messed up. I just want a chance to prove it to you.”

As we spoke, I felt the walls I’d built around my heart begin to crack, revealing the soft, vulnerable parts I had long kept hidden. The thought of giving him a second chance filled me with both excitement and dread. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps we could find our way back to each other, even if it was a long and winding road.

“Okay, let’s see where this goes,” I said, my voice steadying.

“Thank you,” he breathed, relief flooding his words. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Just remember, James,” I warned, feeling the weight of my decision. “You’ll need to earn it.”

“I will,” he promised, his voice resolute. “I won’t let you down this time.”

As I hung up, the silence of the studio wrapped around me, familiar and comforting, but now tinged with a cautious hope. I had found my peace, but maybe—just maybe—I could open the door to something new. The ache in my heart remained, but now it held the promise of healing and the possibility of love rediscovered.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #metallica fluff #metallica angst #angst with a happy ending #james hetfield one shot #james hetfield #james hetfield angst #james hetfield fluff

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changingplumbob · 5 months ago

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Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 6

Family brunch = Gossip session

Luna (mummy) and Devin (mama) use some German and Italian. Bambino/s (Italian) Male child/children Caro/Cara (Italian) Dear Grazie (Italian) Thank you Nonna/Nonno (Italian) Grandfather/Grandmother Prego (Italian) You’re welcome Schnucki (German) Sweetie but doesn’t have an exact translation Tante/Onkel (German) Aunt/Uncle Zia/Zio (Italian) Aunt/Uncle

Luna is watering the garden and Devin is halfway through cooking the pancakes when the first guest rings the doorbell.

Alfred: Bell?

Devin: Must be Luna’s brothers

Joey: Ma and Pa wouldn’t have dragged Emisia out of bed by now

Luna: I’ll get it!

Devin: Okay bambinos, time to turn the tablets off. You need to say hi to your Tante and Onkels

Rilian: Why

Joey: Come on you two, I bet I can get to the door faster than you

The twins drop the tablets and push themselves up!

Devin: Works every time

By the time the visitors migrate to the kitchen Devin has finished the pancakes. We have Luna’s brothers Hugo and Max, although Max’s wife has decided not to come. Then we have Devin and Joey’s younger sisters Deanna and Artemisia, as well as their Ma and Pa who are Nonna and Nonno to the twins.

Devin: Chow time everyone

The family descends on the food, some grabbing the bagels while others opt for the fluffy pancakes.

Aaron: Does filming start tomorrow then

Devin: It does! And a pirate movie no less, they’re due a revival

Atremisia: You won’t get an accolade for it. You’re a one hit wonder

Devin: Grazie Emisia, your support brings tears to my eyes

Artemisia: Prego

Devin: Are the extensions holding up okay

Artemisia: They’ve grown out! This hair is all mine now

Aaron: And she is shedding it like crazy, reminds me of cleaning up all your hair

Devin and Artemisia: Gross!

Max: These bagels aren’t too bad Joey. If I were you I would have put some fire chillies in it

Luna: Yes Max, we know how you like to mess with people. Is Miriam coming by later

Max: Me and Miriam are going through a patch right now

Luna: Oh come here

Max: I don’t want a hug

Luna: To bad

Calista: Don’t tell me you didn’t get a girl last night

Joey: I got a woman ma, but she didn’t seem interested in staying the night

Calista: Well I hope you’re being safe

Joey: Of course I am, no surprise grandbabies from me

Luna: Alfred schnucki, can you please eat over your plate

Alfred: But Mummy, I shake off syrup

Max: I may have put too much on his plate

Luna: May?

Max: It was an accident! This time

Luna: Did you send your sample into the genealogy site

Max: I did, I don’t know why

Hugo: Because we want to track down some of mums relatives, I told you this

Max: She abandoned us. Why should we care about her family

Hugo: We don’t know that she abandoned us! Dad was involved with some very shady people. I can’t shake the feeling she got hurt

Max: Whatever. I sent the sample in

Joey: Looking good Emisia! How’s life

Artemisia: Nothing I can’t manage

Joey: You playing nice with the other kids

Deanna: She is not

Artemisia: How would you know

Devin: Lucky guess

Artemisia: If I’m not it’s because a jerk like Roger doesn’t deserve my niceness

Aaron: But we’re finished with fights, aren’t we cara?

Artemisia: *sighs* Yes Pa. I won’t hit someone… unless they hit me first

Calista: Emisia, you must try to control the evil impulses

Artemisia: Max how do you control your evil impulses

Hugo: I don’t think he does

Max: I know not to pick fights I can’t win

Rilian: Hmm

Alfred: Eat Ri, you not like pancakes?

Rilian: No

Alfred: But Mama made them special

Rilian: *shrugs*

Max: How much do you think a divorce lawyer costs

Hugo: You can’t be serious

Max: I’m just checking out my options. Aaron? Do you know?

Aaron: I’d try talking to your wife first. Rough patches don’t have to lead straight to divorce

Luna: Exactly. Try to work at your relationship Max

Joey: Or just swear off relationships. How about you Emisia? Anyone cute at school

Artemisia: Maybe. Why should I tell you

Joey: Because I’m asking nicely

Artemisia: Bit busy focusing on myself right now

Devin: *laughs* Oh I do that

Aaron: You inherited that from me

Luna: I’m just saying, there must be some reason you got married

Joey looks like he’s going to say something but Devin shoots him a warning look. Guess now’s not the best time to interject with knowledge of how mods work.

Max: Suppose, but there’s also a reason I got a prenup

Artemisia: Oh to be rich and have rich people problems

Deanna: Are you dancing Alfred

Alfred: I bob like hen Zia De

Devin: He does love his birds

Max: Why does it matter if we don’t work out anyway? It’s not your relationship

Hugo: You’re our brother, of course we want you to be successful!

Luna: Deep breaths Hugo, deep breaths. Just keep us in the loop Max, okay?

Max: I’ll think about it

Artemisia: *thinking to self* I must study his evil

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0906 #DevinVillareal #JoeyYork #LunaVillareal #AlfredVillareal #RilianVillareal #CalistaYork #AaronYork #DeannaYork #ArtemisiaYork

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notsosilentsister · 8 months ago

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Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet, 2023)

I find myself wanting to talk about this film like the characters in it are real people, which can be the mark of a story that has accomplished its aims. So the question is, did she do it? What do I think, what are we supposed to think?

I think we're supposed to think it's ambiguous. The climax is all about the son making a choice - it's clearly not an easy one for him. He isn't just telling the truth. He's - if not inventing entirely - embellishing, at least. The testimony might not provide much admissible evidence, but emotionally, it's too neat of a resolution, fits too well with the lawyer's characterisation of the husband. So well that at first I thought, sure, this has to be true, how could a kid have come up with this? But of course this is the kid of two writers. He cannot know if his mother is innocent, but he decides to save her anyway.

Sandra herself doesn't agree with her lawyer's characterization of her husband. She tells him right in court, where others might hear, when that's the pillar of his defense, undermining her own best shot at being exculpated. (Are we supposed to think she is at a real risk of being found guilty? I don't know enough about French courts to evaluate that, but I would normally assume there's not much of a case, the accusation is based on too much conjecture. But that's not truly what's at stake here, isn't it, the real stakes are about losing her child's trust and love. The suspense of the court's verdict might be taking artistic licence to dramatize the suspense of the child's verdict.)

Sandra has enough of a self preservation instinct to lie about the bruise, but she hesitates to support the suicide theory. She still doesn't seem to be entirely on board even after she herself has disclosed her husband's first suicide attempt. She's muddling her own story, and it does seem like a mark of counter-productive honesty. It could be manipulation - maybe making her lawyer think she's innocent is just as, if not more, important to her as proving her innocence in court? But it does seem genuine to me. Sandra is presented as someone who almost can't help her honesty. She's straightforward, blunt, she won't smile at her husband's friends, when she's not feeling it, she's showing her true colours, even if it costs her.

I declared Sandra innocent in my mind pretty early in the proceedings, I just couldn't buy the motive. A fit of rage? I kinda never buy that as an explanation, killing seems often like a fairly drawn-out-affair, where you have to commit to see it through, and it certainly does seem so in the scenario presented, where she would have to lift his legs over the windowsill. Like, I could sometimes see someone inadvertently killing a victim they just intended to scare, because they misjudged their power, but it's also hard to see that as a strategy Sandra would use in this scenario. My guess is that fatal domestic violence (without financial motive) is usually either habitual intimidation with miscalculated impact, a honor killing, or the last resort of a cornered animal. And those other options also don't seem to fit Sandra, whose honor doesn't rely on controlling her husband and who always seems to have plenty of agency - if she's unhappy in her marriage, she speaks her mind, she takes a lover; if she's unhappy enough, why wouldn't she just get a divorce?

But isn't that just the textbook mistake? To believe that a strong woman like Sandra would not get trapped in an abusive relationship? (She always seems to have plenty of agency - except when he's ruining her interview with his awful music, and she can't just tell him to shut it off..). Because that husband sure is a piece of work. I'm immediately predisposed against him, before he's even shown on the scene, with his first aural emantion. I grieve for him, when I see the grief of his child. And then he's on my eternal shitlist again, when he accuses his wife of always forcing others to meet her on her own territory, when he's just roped her into moving to his home-town. Because he has to speak English with her instead of his native tongue French, when she doesn't get to speak her native tongue German to him either! The gall of it! Shit's so transparent, it's adding insult to injury.

So the husand certainly _tries_to trap her, in isolation, in guilt, but doesn't she see through it, when she reads him for filth in that climactic altercation? Shouldn't that be enough to break the spell? Would she have to resort to violence to escape?

For what it's worth, I think the laywer's theory is much more likely. Husband tries it, and fails, and sees that his guilt trips won't work on her much longer. He's the one who's cornered. And I wouldn't put it past him to pull a Gone Girl and choose his exit in a way that frames the wife he blames for all his miseries. Vindictive self-destruction. Also fits well with the injuries to his knuckles and the holes in the walls, for which we do, after all, see objective evidence. But maybe I would believe any theory presented by Swann Arlaud (who, since we're talking about imagining animals' heads on people's bodies, obviously looks like a stoat. A beautiful stoat. I've been keenly waiting for Sandra Hüller to say it in that last scene they have together, when she cradles his head and looks deep into his eyes. But this film is really all about witholding resolution.)

#anatomy of a fall #justine triet #sandra hüller #swann arlaud #film #film review #journal

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suryablogs123 · 5 days ago

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Easy Process of Getting Divorce: Mutual Consent Divorce in India

Looking to understand mutual consent divorce in India? We help you to break down each step, from filing the petition to the final judgment, making the process easier and less stressful. Discover how to make your divorce journey smoother and more manageable.

First, File the Divorce Petition

The first and foremost step in a mutual consent divorce is to file a divorce petition in the family court.

Now the question may arise: How can I get a quick divorce? Following Once the petition is filed, the court will schedule a hearing to record both husband and wife’s statements on oath. This is the simple beginning of the divorce process.

It is a formal beginning to the legal process of a parting of ways, a notice to the other party that one is indeed desirous of a dissolution of marriage.

You Both Should Have Respective Lawyers

Even though a mutual consent divorce is totally based on agreement between both husband and wife, it is still important for each person to have their own lawyer or attorney on their side at the same time you don’t know How much does it cost for divorce in India? But that is totally based on the circumstances.

Independent Advice: A lawyer can provide unbiased legal advice to ensure that each spouse understands their rights, obligations, and options.

Document Preparation: Lawyers will help draft the divorce petition, settlement agreements, and any other necessary documents, ensuring everything is legally sound and meets court needs or requirements.

Representation in Court: Each lawyer represents their client during court proceedings, including Read more...

#justice #law #legal #marriage #Divorce

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hiswordsarekisses · 2 months ago

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“So, he committed adultery. Big deal! It doesn’t mean he murdered his wife. It doesn’t even count in the course of this trial!” The big city lawyer thundered.

But the man had indeed murdered his wife.

And while I agree that adultery doesn’t equal a murder, it did matter in the course of his life. Today, we’re pretty loose about adultery, marriage, divorce, and the covenants of God. But that doesn’t mean God has changed His mind.

In a little book in the back of the Old Testament of Scriprure, God talks to the Priests first, the he tell the people why

they are losing favor with Him, why He won’t accept what they want to give Him. It’s because you’re unfaithful to each other!

One God created you, but you’re unfaithful to each other. Why?! He is a witness to husbands and wives of their youth. God has made you One in the spirit, through

a sacred holy covenant with Him,

in Him a joint spirit.

I feel this the longer I’m married.

We become one flesh through covenant

sexual relations, to bring godly offspring into the world, as a gift to the one we married, as a service made for marriage. That’s why purity and virginity are valuable.

They are part of a sacred covenant.

Do you hear that very often?

I bet not.

Now, most of the time, we read that

“God hates divorce” from this passage.

He does, but the Hebrew text goes

deeper linguistically.

God actually calls divorce a

“hateful thing” in His eyes, that it renders you covered in “violence”, from hurting

the very one you were given to protect!

That’s the true depth.

Here, I think He highlights something we don’t often speak in Christian circles.

The violence of divorce.

The hatred of divorce.

The twisted undone protection that comes in unfaithfulness.

The loss of God’s favor.

The witness of God watching over marriages and seeing a home full of the violence of divorce, the hatefulness of unfaithfulness.

I found it profound and interesting that as God was speaking to a nation, He was sorting out the husbands, who were to be the high priests of their families, and the reality of what unfaithfulness means to our relationship to God. Malachi lived in a culture that divorced wives, just because they wanted a newer model.

God wanted it stopped.

How does God see divorce?

As a hateful violent act against the ones

we are supposed to be protecting.

And God grieves.

Marriage is holy ground.

When Jesus is asked about it while on earth, He says it happens because of

the “hardening of our hearts”.

So, one of the things I think is of utmost importance in a marriage, is to watch

that your heart doesn’t harden against

your mate.

Don’t let bitterness gain a footing.

Keep communication open and fights finished.

Get help when you need to get help.

Invest in each other, and keep a check on your critical attitude.

Should hurtful sarcasm and snarky intimidations stand between you, you are risking a hard heart, a costly adultery

and a hateful divorce.

Violence to your home.

Now, if you were the one who didn’t commit adultery and did not want the divorce, please note that this does not apply ….to you.

You are deeply loved and God will get

you through what’s been done to you.

It likely won’t be in your timing or your way.

It will cost much shame, guilt, anger and pain, because those are part of sin.

But please don’t waste time thinking you are all to blame.

I’m sure the person leaving has hatefully filled you in, as you try and explain to confused children what’s happening,

while you don’t even understand.

I just don’t want us to forget:

Divorce is still a tragedy.

It’s still a terrible sign of hate.

Adultery is still horrendous,

no matter how you rename it, or how fabulous it looks on a movie screen.

That’s a lie. But also know:

Both are also forgivable sins.

If you have come to Christ after a

hateful divorce, God knows.

Keep growing in grace, and make right what you can, then move forward in faith.

God will be faithful to you.

But yes, while I know this is a hot topic,

less debatable and more acceptable

than ever, I’m speaking

to those who are Believers.

I’m saying what God said:

Be on your guard.

Do not be unfaithful to each other.

~AnnStewartPorter

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terrence-silver · 2 years ago

Note

If Terry were to ever do an arranged marriage for whatever reason, do you think he would be able to fall in love with the person he married eventually or would it be strictly business for him? What if the person he married for business purposes one day confessed to loving him, how would he react?

Don't figure Terry Silver would opt for marriage, arranged or otherwise, unless he had some semblance of liking towards this individual --- or a lot, because his criteria for a spouse is high and entails no more and less than 'Lets us devour each other and set the world on fire' (an added plus is if they are useful as a sort of double whammy), because if it is sheer business and he can't stand their guts outside of what they can do for his advancement (and he for theirs, which, while he might pretend it is a case of 'I scratch your back and you scratch mine' he'd hate needing someone to be useful to him and feeling powerless in the process), then there's the hassle of getting rid of them once their use is up, and for a control freak with a pathological need to always get out on top and have that upper hand, I think giving up his freedom and being legally tied to just anybody is a prospect Terry would rather avoid at all costs, because he can't just order a beloathed spouse begone or ignore them until they disappear when he no longer needs them (as much as hatefucking and cutting someone off might hit a few kinks), so, as such, he'd rather not marry just anyone.

Fucking and having arm-candy is one thing.

Marrying with little of a filter? No.

There's other ways to win in the corporate arena that doesn't need him being tied in matrimony and suffer all the consequences, strings and baggage the dissolution of a marriage involves afterwards. Thing is, for a high profile Billionaire, divorce brings along more devastation than it does victory and it costs; it costs a lot, fiscally and reputation-wise. It is messy. Chaotic. Not that throwing around money has ever been an issue for Terry, but he also doesn't enjoy losing. Not to someone else, no. And nobody divorces him if he doesn't want them to; not even someone he doesn't like. He'd rather put them in a shallow grave than be beaten. Not to mention he would loathe the feeling of weakness needing anyone for anything, least of all, for some sort of business deal acquired through a wedding. Would always serve as a reminder that he couldn't handle his own affairs on his own and that he's attached to this one asshole over there because of it.

Nobody enjoys the sensation of having no choice.

Being caged into something, if you will.

Terry Silver, more so than most individuals.

So, a loveless arranged marriage of mere convenience? I don't see it.

Now, I do think he'd be fair game in an arranged marriage to someone he does think is a morsel in spite of their usefulness to him--- someone he too has feelings for, and someone who he can see himself getting to love him back; which is a delightful conquest all on its own. Someone he desires and someone who is beneficial at the same time? Yes, yes and yes. Added bonus of that individual having fewer says in this deal than he does, because being in control like that hits his sweet tooth just fine; absorbs the vexation of Terry still needing someone for something where business is concerned. Who does the arranging of this marriage, you may ask? Undoubtedly, Terry himself to himself. Being, in effect, matchmaker, organizer and groom-to-be. He picks and chooses who he wants and what he wants, for all the reasons he wants, entirely capable of approaching the family, board, representatives or lawyers of the individual he has his eyes on and just outright making an offer one doesn't refuse. So, really, if his chosen and arranged beloved tells him they love him, it is to be expected and a cherry atop of an already self-indulgent cake which Terry will have and eat too. They love him, he loves them, and business is blooming. The world is his oyster and he's out to win, win and win, not be trapped, swindled, pushed into arrangements and business deals that serve no lasting purpose and is ultimately out to choke and tire him. He will have power, money and love.

He will have it all.

#terry arranging his own marriage for himself seems like a thing he'd do #terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #tw; arranged marriage #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #marriage #yandere

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breaniebree · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 2,858 times in 2022

2,035 posts created (71%)

823 posts reblogged (29%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@breaniebree

@seriouslysam8

@in-love-with-remus-lupin

@overheard-at-hogwarts

I tagged 253 of my posts in 2022

#harry potter fanfiction - 175 posts

#asc - 152 posts

#a second chance by breanie - 133 posts

#breanie - 121 posts

#welcome to breanie's world of asc the kismet trilogy - 70 posts

#chapter update - 63 posts

#the kismet trilogy part two a second chance by breanie - 61 posts

#a second chance - 59 posts

#the world of asc - 57 posts

#the kismet trilogy part one the first time around by breanie - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 76 characters

#‘now i’ve explained the issue i don’t need the help anymore i’ve got it now’

My Top Posts in 2022:

since the hinny morale seems a bit low around here lately, can we have an out of context hinny scene/line? :-)))

Hi, Anon,

A small one:

But Harry was determined and when she’d bet him that he couldn’t do the impossible, he had most certainly proved her wrong.

“I can’t move,” she said, her cheek still lying flat against the damp sheets.

His lips trailed over her shoulders and back. “Funny, because I think I’m ready for another go.”

Ginny opened one eye. “Liar.”

His cock brushed over her thigh and the feel of him half-hard made her eyes cross.

“Bloody hell, I’ve unleashed a monster.”

Harry continued to trail kisses over her skin, his fingers tracing the freckles down her back. “Is that a complaint, Miss Weasley?”

“Most certainly not,” she said, her lips twitching.

How could she ever even think about complaining about something like this? Harry had quite simply destroyed her.

53 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

Reminder -- no new chapter until the end of July so that @thedistantdusk can catch up on editing for me :D

But in the meantime, since everyone was so excited about Greg and Pansy...

Here's a Sneak Peek at Chapter 336 -- The One Where Harry Doesn't Flirt With Theo

Pansy’s dark eyebrows rose up into hair. “Hi? Are you bloody kidding me? You send some lawyer here with fucking divorce papers and all you can say to me is hi? Hi!”

Greg swallowed. “Pansy, I —”

Pansy slapped his arm. She was so much shorter and smaller than him that he barely felt it. “How dare you try to divorce me without talking to me first!”

“Pansy —”

“—No!” she shrieked. “I am your wife, Gregory Goyle! Your wife! We are married and we have a child together! Does that mean nothing to you?”

“What? Of course it does,” he insisted. “But you didn’t want to marry me. I just… I want to free you from that obligation.”

“Obligation!” Pansy exclaimed, her fist hitting him in the arm. “What is wrong with you?”

Her fists kept hitting him, but she was so small that they did nothing and when he attempted to grab her hands to stop him, she shoved him. Only Greg was made of solid muscle and twice her height; he didn’t so much as move an inch.

“Argh!” Pansy screamed, shoving him again.

He still didn’t so much as budge.

Pansy shoved him a third time. “WHY WON’T YOU BLOODY FALL OVER!”

Greg’s lips twitched as he bit back a laugh and when he attempted to grab her hands again, she yanked herself away from him and took off her shoe, whipping it at his head. Greg ducked just in time. He held his hands up in surrender.

“Pansy, can we just — bloody hell!”

Greg ducked again to avoid her second shoe. He thought that he was safe to stand again, but the marble bust from the end table suddenly came flying at his head. Greg barely moved out of the way in time as it crashed to the floor.

“What the fuck, Parkinson?” Draco exclaimed, scowling from the door to the parlour. “Do you know how much that bloody cost?”

“Piss off, Draco!” Pansy shrieked. “If this bloody wall would just take a hit, I wouldn’t have to break things over him!”

Greg made to reach for her again, but she kicked him in the shin. “Ow!”

“Bloody hell,” Draco exclaimed, ducking when Pansy picked up a glass vase and chucked it towards Goyle. “Stop breaking my things!”

“Get out, Malfoy!” she screamed as the vase shattered against the wall. “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”

53 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

Chapter 323 Sneak Peek -- The One With the Master of Death

Harry snorted. “Right, don’t die. Noted.”

Ron’s hand clasped his. “Look, I know you’re jealous because I’m getting all these new sexy-arse scars and I have this perfect arse and killer blue eyes, but you just have to admit it, Harry.”

“Admit what, exactly?” Harry asked, giving his friend an amused look.

“That you might have a bigger cock, but I’m the sexier one overall.”

Harry’s lips twitched. “I admit it, you’re sexy as hell, Ron, but we both know that Goldstein’s better looking.”

“Take that back!” Ron roared, dropping Harry’s hand. “Take it back right now!”

“Can’t,” Harry said. “You were only fourth place in the lineup and it’s time you admit it to yourself.”

Ron placed a hand over his heart. “I need a healer. My best mate has just caused my heart to stop. You’ve killed me.”

Harry grinned. “Just get yourself healed up and back to school, you bloody git. I’m sure once everyone hears of your heroics, no one will even think about Goldstein. Besides, the sooner you get back, the sooner you can find out who wrote the article.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “Did Ginny find something? What do you know?”

Harry shrugged. “She hinted that she might have.”

Ron grinned widely. “I can’t wait to find the witch responsible and tell her all the reasons why she’s wrong.”

“Ron?”

“Yeah?” Ron asked, still rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re a bloody moron.”

Ron shrugged. “Takes one to know one.” At Harry’s grin, Ron grabbed his hand again. “And I love you, too.”

Harry leaned in to hug his friend just as Ginny and Hermione came back into the room...

The First Time Around Chapter 3 -- The One Where There's No Hogwash

Sneak Peek -- September 1970

55 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Quick Sneak Peeks/Taunts At the Final Chapters of ASC

Chapter 343 — The One With the News

The curtains were pulled open and Harry and Neville each stood there, holding a pillow. Before either of them could move, pillows beat them over the head until they were laughing and on the floor, shoving them off. Feathers exploded out of one and Neville spit a feather out of his mouth.

Chapter 344 — The One With the Last Hurrah

“Eight!” Ron shouted. “Nine if you count the green of his new one.” He grabbed Harry’s wrist and held it up. “This wanker actually tattooed my sister’s name onto his body!”

Harry blushed, pulling his arm away. “Hey! I love her.”

Ron shook his head. “Soppy wanker.”

Chapter 345 — The One With No Pressure

“And we need to make more of a plan because my parents are going to have questions.”

“A plan? We have a plan. We’re going to raise these babies together.”

“A more detailed plan,” Fiadh corrected. “We should talk about moving in together.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Fred demanded. “I want you to move in with me. You know that.”

“I know, but maybe we should look for a bigger place. This flat isn’t exactly baby proof.”

Fred frowned. “What’s wrong with my bachelor pad?”

Fiadh’s lips curved. “For starters, the fact that it’s a bachelor pad.”

Chapter 346 — The One Where We’re Not Gonna Take It

Operation Kill the Sodding Bastard was finally bloody here.

Chapter 347 — The One Where This Is Our Life, This Is Our Home

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wasn’t sure if he would have believed it. Canadian geese, with their long necks and wide wings, were honking and chasing Death Eaters down in front of the castle.

Chapter 348 — The One With Operation Kill the Sodding Bastard

Someone huge tackled him to the ground and he grunted as his breath was stolen from him. His breath came out in a loud whoosh as he looked up into the face of Goyle in surprise.

“Goyle, what the fuck?”

Before Goyle could answer, a red spark hit the ground near Theo’s head and he winced. Goyle rolled him before he pulled him to his feet. When Theo looked over, Lestrange was dead and part of the stone from the courtyard had collapsed where Theo had just been standing.

Chapter 349 — The One Where It’s Finally Over

“I’m okay, too.”

“No, you’re not,” she told him, kissing his brow, “but you will be. Take a breath, Harry. Tom’s gone.”

Chapter 350 — The One With the Polka Dot Tie

…people started to applaud him.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“To the Chosen One!”

See the full post

58 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Exciting news for me to share!

A few select people are already in the loop aka @seriouslysam8 @thedistantdusk @celtics534 @ellieoryan7447 and @bellmel

But after talking to Sam about an idea I had -- which turned into multiple ideas after idea bouncing with Sam -- she helped me decide to make my wonderful world of ASC into a trilogy which I am calling

Kismet Trilogy

1. The First Time Around

Told in snippets and short stories of moments in the lives of the Marauders, from how they first met, to how James and Lily fell in love, to how Peter betrayed them. It will end with Sirius going to Azkaban.

2. A Second Chance

The story that you've all come to love. The story of Sirius only spending 4 years in prison before he is finally given a trial and able to raise Harry with Remus the way he should have. It is the story of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin as they learn what it means to be a father/brother/guardian to Harry while finding love themselves and the story of Harry Potter, a young boy with a loving home who learns about the Marauders from the two men who should have raised him and grows into the man who will lead the war against Voldemort. Slow burn Hinny.

3. TBA Third Story

Will pick up where ASC leaves off and continue into the future of the world and characters you've all come to love.

Why now you ask?

Well, I have Marauder memories that I want to use and sadly, they just don't all fit into my story.

I have ideas on things that I want to do with the future of my living characters in ASC and starting a new story might be the best way to do that.

And finally, because I am really excited to tell you that my world is not ending in the near future and I will provide you with more Hinny goodness and other couples to come.

I am calling the trilogy Kismet which is fate/destiny; a predetermined or unavoidable destiny; the property of being lucky; the, usually unfortunate, way of the world.

I think it sums up what I want to do and what I have done so far in ASC and I am excited to share this news with you all!

Chapter One -- The One Where Muggles are Filth will be posted this weekend (it starts in the year 1965 and is from the POV of Sirius Black). Many of the memories have been mentioned and/or shared in ASC already, but many of them have been extended and many of them are brand new.

I think it will allow those people who love Jily/Marauder a new fic to love in my ASC world and for those interested, it will provide more background on our loveable Marauders and Jily.

If all goes to plan, every weekend I will drop 2 chapters. One from The First Time Around (FTA) and one from A Second Chance (ASC).

Thank you in advance! I hope you like it!

88 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 years ago

Note

Ask HC: In regard to the large, floating obelisk currently out front of Francois Dupont, just don't look at it directly, and leave before the ominous humming gets louder.

Talon: "And now, a word from our sponsor."

Talon: "Listeners, are you lost? Don’t know where to turn? Might I recommend T͚ͤ̽͗̏̚h̯̺̠̜͔e͔̮̮̠ͥͨ̏̂̊ ̭͖̪̠̓͊̄̃Ḇ̙͎̭̯͈̔ͪr̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n ̭̖̜̫̫̖ͤ͋͌͆͋͛S͎͖̦̗̗͛̊ͣ͒t̖̳̹̒̈ͦ̎o̭̼̠͐̿n̥̠̼̝̯̪̺̿ͪẹ͕͎̑̍ͧͪ̅ ̬͔͖̤͈͉̽̾̋̏̿S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚. Do you need cash? Cast your eyes to T͚ͤ̽͗̏̚h̯̺̠̜͔e͔̮̮̠ͥͨ̏̂̊ ̭͖̪̠̓͊̄̃Ḇ̙͎̭̯͈̔ͪr̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n ̭̖̜̫̫̖ͤ͋͌͆͋͛S͎͖̦̗̗͛̊ͣ͒t̖̳̹̒̈ͦ̎o̭̼̠͐̿n̥̠̼̝̯̪̺̿ͪẹ͕͎̑̍ͧͪ̅ ̬͔͖̤͈͉̽̾̋̏̿S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚. Alone, drowning in back taxes and legal problems? Look at T͚ͤ̽͗̏̚h̯̺̠̜͔e͔̮̮̠ͥͨ̏̂̊ ̭͖̪̠̓͊̄̃Ḇ̙͎̭̯͈̔ͪr̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n ̭̖̜̫̫̖ͤ͋͌͆͋͛S͎͖̦̗̗͛̊ͣ͒t̖̳̹̒̈ͦ̎o̭̼̠͐̿n̥̠̼̝̯̪̺̿ͪẹ͕͎̑̍ͧͪ̅ ̬͔͖̤͈͉̽̾̋̏̿S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚"

Talon: "Paris’s newest spire – built in the night several weeks ago by unknown agents, or aliens, or animals, or just our collective imagination – the T͚ͤ̽͗̏̚h̯̺̠̜͔e͔̮̮̠ͥͨ̏̂̊ ̭͖̪̠̓͊̄̃Ḇ̙͎̭̯͈̔ͪr̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n ̭̖̜̫̫̖ͤ͋͌͆͋͛S͎͖̦̗̗͛̊ͣ͒t̖̳̹̒̈ͦ̎o̭̼̠͐̿n̥̠̼̝̯̪̺̿ͪẹ͕͎̑̍ͧͪ̅ ̬͔͖̤͈͉̽̾̋̏̿S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚ offers itself to all those who are down on their luck, or destitute, or simply being crushed by the consequences of their own maleficence."

Talon: "Ț̘͕͓͔̗͒ḧ̥͍̖̞̯̫̦͒̚ě̲̣͓͂͂ͦ̂͆ ͙̙̔ͧB̯̘͎̜͍̬͑ͅr̰̼̹̤̞͛̽̿ͯo͓͔͇̓̓̿̿̑͒́w̞̽̏̚n̰͚̲̬̠̔ͩ̌ͣ̈́̃ͣ ͗̐͋ͭ̆S̻̟̹t̫͂ö̟͇͈́n͙͈̜̈ͩ̏̋̂ͅe̬͉̹͎̮͚̔ͮ͑ͫ ̤̋̈́ͣͭͩȘ͖̟͖̙̣͗ͫp̫̭̗̭͚̎̽ị̺̰̮ṟ̙̣͖̱̅́̾e͚̹̙͔̭̫̝̽̎ͯͬ̌́ͦ ̞̺͖̥͕͙͕d̩͓̰̳̱̩̹ͣ́̌̀̍ͨȏ̺͈͗̇̽̂̈ê͖͕͕̞̋̐s̞̞̖̣ͯ̀͌̊ͣ̃̉ ̻͎͓̘̻̝̦ͧ̚ǹ̮̫̯̰̈́̀ͭ̈͑̽ò̻͓͕̝̔ͩt̟̽ c͙̙̱̖ä̦̙͍́ͩ̎͆r̼͓̖ͧ̽ͭͫ̋ȅͯͦ.̼̦͌̒͋̚ ͩ̊͂̈́̈́Ť͙͙̭͉̟͊͛͋h̩̾̍e̺͗̓̒͑̚ ̼B̩ͦr̬͈̬̻̖̺̈o̝̻͓̱̊̑̂̑w͚͇̮̋̓̿ͧ͗̒n̼̟̅̈́ͯ̎̿̓ ̞̻̣̮̯S̳̳ͪͮ͌͌ͫ̂t͉͛ͦͣͪō̻̰̤̥͐̏n͇̗͂e͕͔͍͔̩͇ͫ̌̒ ̼̝ͣSp̯̒i͌͐̀ͪ̿̑r̻̟ͅe̬̭̱͍̿ͤͪ̎͐͆̍ ̤̼͙̱̗̲̑͑̓ͪͬ̚d͔̮͐͒̓̽o͓͍͉̦̖͓e̞͑s̘ ̻̇ͣ͒̒̀ṅ̥̭̳̣͈̦̾ȍ͕͉̼t͕̜̖̠̟ͥ̽̈́͂̓̽ͅ ͖̜̂̔ͣ̃̒̄̂dͪ̋̊ͣͩͯi̮̞̙ͪͮͧ͋s̩͙͇͖̫͍̐ͪͪ́c̏ͥr̳̫̯͚̪̘ͤ̉̉̎̈́̈̔i̥͎̬̣̦͉̣͒m͎̪̳̮͉̗ͤ͐͒̚iͭͫ̑ͣͥͩ́n̼̪͙̄̅aͫ̎̍̎͆ť͇͕̠̟͛ͥ̋͐͐e̻̮̫̫̲̳ͭ̏ͣ͆ ͓̪̞͈ͮͫͦ́̑̔̚ͅb̟͍͕̞̊̋̆a͎ͯͣ́̌͂̓ͫṥ͇͎͎͚͗ͫͪ̃̂e͉̹̪̩̣̓̌ͭͨd͈ ̟͚͍o̅̐̓̔̄̇͋n͎̹̮̗͇̰͇ͣ̓̉͌̍̆ ̩̗͎̬̠̩p̤̝͎̒̍̂̓e̲̣ͅtͥ̿t͎̓͗̋y͑̇̀̋ͦ̿̈ ͖͋̃̔͌ͯͥ̉m̪̒̀ͨ̈́̈͌̚o͇̼̤͉̝r̙͉̀a̲͇̮͑ͨͫ̇̈̃l͈̜̗͍̫̆̓̔̒̊̚s̯̺͋̓ͪ͌̎."

Talon: "Divorce? Out of work?G̖̳̠̳͍ͬi̞̟̟̭ͪv̾̔̈̉̓e͙̭͗̈̌ ̜͎̭͓͚͊͗ͯͤy̬̦̰ͥͣͦo̫͖̳͔̬̻͚͊͂u̼͉͕̹̪ͪr̹̒͊̆̾̓͊s̫̍ͯͬ̓ͫ͒e̫l͇̹̳͚ͮͥͯ̽f̻̣͓̗̲̌̅͑̏̄̚ ͚̜̳̝͙̗͚t͍̻̝o̱̱̣͎͈̮ͦͨ̋̉͐͂̋ ̊̎͗̂̅̈́ͨT̥͙̩͍̪͆̓̈́̿͂h͉͖͕̊ͥͨͦ̐̌͋e̗̠̭̪̙ͨͭ͒ͅͅ ͎̖͍̞̣͕̺̈́͂̓ͯ̿B̠̬̮̦̯̜ͅṛ͈̣͖͔̠̫͛ͤo̫̱͎̳ͥͣ̂͐w̅͐ͣ͗̏̈́̀ͅͅn̺̗͖̾ ͖̮̮ͥ́̃ͪ͋̽ͭͅS̪̝ͪt̳̮̥̞͈̩̹ͬ͋̓o̜̰͖̤͇̙̻n̜̜̟̙͋eͯ̍ ̪̼͇͋̈ͨ̃̀ͅŜ̭̆̀͒͌̚p͚̪̮̹̭̦ͥ̈̏́̓ͣ̆ͅir͚̪ͪ͒e̲̩̱͚̦.̘ͬ͛̈́̓̂̂"

Talon: "You might be asking, how much does it cost to receive help from T͚ͤ̽͗̏̚h̯̺̠̜͔e͔̮̮̠ͥͨ̏̂̊ ̭͖̪̠̓͊̄̃Ḇ̙͎̭̯͈̔ͪr̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n ̭̖̜̫̫̖ͤ͋͌͆͋͛S͎͖̦̗̗͛̊ͣ͒t̖̳̹̒̈ͦ̎o̭̼̠͐̿n̥̠̼̝̯̪̺̿ͪẹ͕͎̑̍ͧͪ̅ ̬͔͖̤͈͉̽̾̋̏̿S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚? I can assure you it does not cost any money. It costs…other things. But if you’re concerned about what those costs are, then you are not in enough trouble for The Brown Stone S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛ḙ͍͉̠̼̱̭ͬ̄̉ͧ̇̚. You just need a lawyer."

Talon: "But if you are filled with glass shards of regret – The Br̘̮̲͍o̖ͅw͔͇̠͎͇̙̍͂̔n Stone S̀̆̈́̏̑ͣ̔p̲̋͐i͎̦̜̗̖̗͂ͥͧͯͭ̏̌ͅr̘͔͎͖̜͍̟̒͋͛e – or screaming impotently at an indifferent moon, then no need to look! T̯͚̻̲ͧ͗h͊ͫ͗̓̓̚e̙̱̎ͨͅ ̻̙̱ͬ̃̔̋̌͌B̼̥̘̀͛̑̃ͨ͗r͇̣̈ͨͦͬ̄͌ͣoͦ̆ͬ̃̚w͙̰̖̲̠̜ͦ́͂n̳̍ ̯̮̰̭̬̒S̼͎̞̫̟̫̎̓́̍͑ͬt͍̥̻͇̞͐ͯ̒͑oͪͫṅ͎̖̻̦̔ẻ̳̱ ̝̏̋ͥͨͪ̏S͖͎͉̙͔͈͙̍p̍̎i̻̼̱̝ͪͤȑ̪͙̹̟̤͎̂̔̑̒e͑͌ͅ ͇̠͇ͤw̱̩̠̳̣ͦͣ͑ͅi̞ͦ͋̑ͪ̂̉l̮͉ͫͪ̌̂ͯͨḻ͛͑̊̾̓ͦ̚ ̥̠̳͙̐̅ͩ̏͑̽ͩf̐ͪͭͫ̅ͤ̚i͙͉̱̖͛ͪ̈́̇ͦ̊ṇ̞̏̽͊̊d̼̣̱̣̖̗͙̎̈̉ y͕͗ͪ̏̓͆̏o͔͎͕̝͇̎ͥͬ͌̌̚u̜̩̣̓ͣ.̘͔̺̪̘ͯͣ̍.

Talon: "The B̼̥̘̀͛̑̃ͨ͗rown S̼͎̞̫̟̫̎̓́̍͑ͬt͍̥̻͇̞͐ͯ̒͑one S͖͎͉̙͔͈͙̍pire has a slogan. It cannot be pronounced."

Talon: "This message was brought to you by The Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie!."

#hc answers #zalgo text

9 notes · View notes

syms-things-5 · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 576 times in 2022

79 posts created (14%)

497 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@liberalsarecool

@afeelgoodblog

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I tagged 165 of my posts in 2022

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#fanfic - 25 posts

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Longest Tag: 86 characters

#so he couldn't let me enjoy the sma pics for one week without doing something dumb huh

My Top Posts in 2022:

Case Histories - Chapter Nine

An AU Andy Barber fic (based on BBC’s ‘The Split’)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Series Synopsis: A talented small-town family lawyer, Grace Atherton, gets the opportunity of a lifetime when she is offered a job at prestigious Boston law firm, Rothman and Hale. She decides to give up the relative comfort and ease of her current working situation in favour of following a dream she’s had since she was a young law grad, to the detriment of her family life and marriage. She soon comes into contact with old mentor and one-time flame, Andy Barber. As gifted as he is handsome, it becomes clear he’s been keeping an eye on her burgeoning career from afar. Just how much will this decision cost her?

Chapter Warnings: 18+ NSFW, strong language, angst, emotional stress

CHAPTER NINE

No matter how resilient she was, or at least pretended to be on the outside, Grace had a habit of letting some clients get to her. It didn’t matter that she had a success rate that would make a lawyer twice her age jealous, or even that she was a member of Rothmans to begin with, an agency renowned for its integrity, but passive aggressive comments from people like Nathaniel fucking Parker still got to her.

“He’s always been a dick.” Evie muttered under her breath as she sided up to Grace in the kitchen. “Literally from birth. I think that’s why he got sent to that private school? I remember him making Lydia cry last year over a single coffee, if you can believe that. He’s just rude and patronising and a jerk.”

Evie took great delight in letting off that steam, almost like she had been holding it in for all of this time and only now had the option - and relative safety of speaking to Grace - to fully release the force of her opinions of the man in question. Honestly, she could have kept going. She had no time for people who spoke down to her or any of the other staff she worked with. She especially had no time for the people who did while seeming to forget whose help they were after when they found themselves in the Rothman building in the first place.

“What was he doing here last year?” Grace asked, keeping one eye on Mr Parker through the glass window of the boardroom so as to possibly aim her pen at his head if he happened to walk by.

“It was something to do with his inheritance, I think. He doesn’t speak to any of his siblings anymore except through lawyers so it got really rough at one point. I had to take the minutes but I switched off after a while. Rich kids can be so basic.”

“Huh, you’re not wrong.” Grace rolled her eyes in agreement.

Nathaniel Parker was the stereotypical, arrogant trust-fund child. His father had been the heir to a steel company in Ontario but later sold his shares to buy into a successful modelling agency in New York, as one does. It was there he met Sandra, a promising model, who was just twenty-one years old to his fifty-eight. He quickly divorced his first wife, mother of his first two children, and promptly had four more kids with Sandra within that same decade. Parker Senior had been nearly 70 years of age by the time the final one came along.

Nathaniel was the oldest of the four and had inherited 45% of said agency three years ago at the tender age of just 23. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t mean he owned 45% of the models and so, three lawsuits later, he found himself nearly $20million lighter. There was also a fraudulent crypto-currency deal lingering somewhere in the background but the Feds were already looking into that one.

Jack had wanted nothing to do with him but Charles Rothman had been an old Tennis pal of Parker’s uncle and he had asked Jack personally to try and minimise the public fallout from Nathaniel’s “behaviour”.

Jack hated people like Nathaniel Parker. To him, Nathaniel was someone coasting on his name and other people’s hard work, then believing they had a God-given right to whatever it was they wanted. He didn’t much want to be involved with Nathaniel the first time he breezed through their front doors, before they even knew of his reputation, and he certainly didn’t want to be involved with him now that he knew exactly what kind of man he was; “man” proving to be a rather generous term.

As frustrating as it had been for him to do so, Jack reluctantly removed female involvement from the subsequent cases. He just didn’t want to make any one of his team feel uncomfortable in Parker’s presence and, truthfully, the team had been glad of that decision. The sooner Parker vacated the building, the sooner they could all move on with their lives.

Grace was staggered by just how much his reputation apparently preceded him, and she would be glad if she never saw his name written in the diary ever again.

“You OK?”

Grace looked up to find Andy leaning against the door frame, concern etched across his face as his fingers absent-mindedly clicked at the pen in his hand.

“Yeh, I’m fine.” She smiles, shrugging it off.

He knew what it was that had got her back up but he didn’t say so straight away. He would have said something to Nathaniel Parker himself but he couldn’t walk down the corridor in front of the boardroom where he was sat without spitting fire through his nostrils. Piece of shit.

He pushed himself off the door and made his way towards her, where she was standing in anticipation of the coffee machine to finish frothing up the milk for her cappuccino. The chocolate sprinkles were poised and ready to go, most likely straight into her mouth if Andy hadn’t been standing right there as a potential witness to her slightly odd food habits. She always seemed to crave sweet things when she was feeling stressed out.

“Nothing quite says ‘I’m fine’ like four cups of the strongest coffee we have. What is this, Columbian?” He holds up the jar and squints a little at the label. “Jack usually hides this stuff from us mere mortals.”

“You need to get your eyes tested. And it’s not been four, it’s only been…” She mentally calculates the number of espresso shots she’s inhaled so far today. “Yeh, OK, you’re probably right.”

Andy grabs a cup from the shelf behind the machine and places it next to hers, expectantly. She looks at the cup and then at him before laughing out loud.

“I’m not sharing my milk with you.”

“I don’t want your milk.” He pretends to be affronted but doesn’t get very far before she starts laughing again and he thinks – hopes - he’s made a small difference to her day. “I like it black at this time of the day. I actually fancy something stronger to tell you the truth.”

“Christ, what’s happened to your day?” she asks.

“There’s only so many percentages I can take in the space of a couple of hours, Gracie.” He says, matter-of-factly. “I sometimes wonder if I would have been better off studying maths.”

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37 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Touch & Go - Chapter Eleven

Previous Chapter Here

Series Summary: Ten months after leaving Boston, Sarah’s starting over again in Nashua. A new apartment, a new hospital, and closer to her parents, she’s finally finding some peace following her ill-advised affair with her best friend’s brother. But Sarah should have known it would only be a matter of time before the past catches up with her.

Warnings: 18+ language, sexually suggestive language

Tags (please let me know if I have missed you): @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd @memoriesat30 @ppal3 @patzammit @before-we-get-started

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sarah was starting to understand the power in telling someone you love them. Chris had certainly made sure she knew that. If he wasn’t curling himself around her at night in the comfort of her bed, he was sneaking behind her in the shower and risking her hitherto unbroken record for punctuality. One second, he was being cute and asking her about her day, the next he was making her lose her breath with a new, unfamiliar pleasure.

“Sarah?”

“Huh?”

“The canular?”

“Oh right, yes, of course.”

She unclips the water solution and replaces it with a new bag. Carefully reconnecting it to the canular they had just spend ten minutes trying to insert into the elderly gentleman’s hand, she waits for a second until the first drips start appearing in the tube before hanging it back onto the mobile.

“You OK?” Rosie asks as they both depart the man’s private room.

“Yeh, I’m fine. Sorry about that back there. Just…a bit tired today is all.” Sarah stifles a convenient yawn in the process.

“Hmm yeh I can tell.” Maria elbows her playfully and Sarah chuckles. “If you wanna get a coffee after work, gimme a shout.”

Sarah smiles and nods as Maria walks off in the opposite direction leaving her and Rosie to head back to the equipment room. Sarah didn’t know Rosie all that well, in fact she thought she might not have liked her all that much when she first joined the hospital. Then, after Noah’s death, Rosie was, surprisingly, the first member of the department to reach out to her. From then on, they’d become quite good friends. “Good” in the sense that they were both a part of this unfortunate club.

“Have you spoken to your mom today?” Rosie asks, reaching for the stock pad that had been placed rather unhelpfully on the stop shelf. Sarah was 5ft 9 and even she struggled when reaching her arms up.

“Yeh, we caught up this morning on my way in.” Sarah replies. “Thanks for that recommendation by the way. Never thought I’d see the day she got into organised exercise.”

“You’re welcome. It was a huge help for my mom after…you know…” Rosie shrugged it off.

“Well, I do really appreciate it. I’m not the best at suggesting these kinds of things. I’m just glad she’s getting out of the house more and meeting people.”

“She has you, still. You’re not too far away.”

“I know. It’s just…” Sarah trails off for a moment before shaking her head from a particular thought. “She and my Dad were together practically all their lives and now it’s like she’s all on her own again. It’s really sad.”

Rosie stops what she’s doing and offers Sarah a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t. Please.” Sarah chuckles. “I’m gonna start crying again if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Well, bawl away. I still have my moments and it’s been seven years since my pop died.”

Sarah pondered that admission for a second. The very thing she worries about each night is obviously true and no matter how much she tries to avoid it, it’s not going to be any different for her. She suddenly felt older and no longer protected by the safe notion of still being someone’s child. It sucked.

Chris has been perched on the same stone step for the last hour or so.

“Ten minutes, my ass.” He mutters under his breath.

He had messaged Shanna earlier in the day to ask if she was likely to be around at some point that afternoon and whether she would be open to a visit from her charming and wonderful older brother. His words.

See the full post

39 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Touch & Go - Chapter Fourteen (Finale)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Warnings: Strong and suggestive language

Tags: @ppal3 @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd @memoriesat30 @patzammit @before-we-get-started

And so, here it is, the final chapter of this series. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all of your support; it kept me going when I nearly gave up a couple of times. I really, truly appreciate every single like, reblog, DM’d message and comment that you have given me over the past year or so, and I’m so happy you stuck with it and with me xxx

Chapter Fourteen

“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?”

Scott looks to the ceiling as he works his mind through a serious of responses that might give Chris the encouragement and support that he seemed to be looking for. It was nearly seven in the evening, the sun was low in the sky, and neither of them had the energy to get up and make some food.

“No, I think you’re in love although there isn’t much of a difference to be fair.” he muses. “So, how is this gonna play out exactly? What timeframe are you guys looking at?”

“Um…”

Chris didn’t have those answers. Neither he nor Sarah had thought much beyond the ‘oh wow how amazing is this going to be!?’ phase that comes along with deciding you’re going to move in with someone. There were nerves of course but that all seemed to ebb away as soon as they started thinking about what the future could hold for them both. The thought of picking out china patterns really did something to him apparently. In a good way.

It had been a few weeks since they had decided to take the plunge. Surprisingly, they had both found a quiet eagerness to tell most people despite them both initially agreeing to keep things quiet, at least just until they knew for sure that it was definitely happening. For Chris, though, “people” didn’t always include Scott so he ended up knowing almost straight away, and Sarah had found Audrey was just scarily prescient at guessing things, so she knew pretty soon afterwards as well. Chris was almost certain she and Scott were now talking to each other on a daily basis. His suspicions were confirmed when he spied Scott buying baby toys online.

They were met with a lot of different reactions, the majority of them positive, thankfully, or at least that was how Sarah had chosen to take them at the time. There were definite variations of surprise and shock and Seriously? You??

That had been Chris’ fault. He had always been vocal about wanting to remain in Massachusetts, so steadfast was he to maintaining some semblance of normality in the face of what he had chosen to pursue as a career. Also, he wasn’t exactly known for his commitment so he had to answer some tough questions about that as well. He really didn’t enjoy having this pointed out to him multiple times in the same 24-hour period either.

“But you hate everywhere else.” Was one such helpful comment curtesy of Brian, an old pal from high school who had just moved back to the area after a decade of living in Canada. “And there’s, like, other people there. People who you don’t know.”

“Is there a Dunkin’ nearby? ‘Cos you’re gonna be fuckin’ unbearable if there isn’t one.” Came Mark’s contribution.

It was so nice that his friends were thinking of the bigger picture, Chris thought to himself as he lay on his sofa, beer in hand, this Thursday evening. Scott had ventured over to borrow something but that had been forgotten about and it was now three hours later and they could both feel hangovers slowly coming on.

“They’re just guys, you know?” Scott offered. “It’s how they deal with stuff, like, joking around about it. They’ll probably miss you once you’re gone.”

“Probably?!”

“Obviously they will miss you, we all will, but it’s not like you’re moving to another country, or Alaska or some shit.”

“I know you’re right, it’s just…” He waved his hand above him to try and conjure up the right words but nothing came to mind. “I know they’re happy for me and everything, I just didn’t realise I was so predictable and mundane. Mom said I’m not spontaneous so she was surprised but I think I’m spontaneous, right? Scott? I’ve done impulsive shit before.”

“I don’t think buying a different brand of beer counts as impulsive. Buying a house in a different State? Yeh, I’d say you’ve definitely proven them wrong this time.”

“And,” Chris leans up, swinging his legs off the side of the sofa so he’s sitting upright. “I’m gonna do lots of spontaneous shit from now on. I’m gonna really surprise folks, make that my new thing. That’s gonna be my new opera.”

“Modus operandi?”

“Yes! That’s the shit. Definitely.” He pointed defiantly at Scott. “In fact, I’m gonna call Sarah right now and tell her.”

“Won’t that defeat the object?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna tell her so she can prepare herself.”

“Prepare herself for spontaneity? OK, cool, makes sense.”

Chris dismisses his brother with a wave of his hand and staggers off to the kitchen to grab his phone. He holds it tightly like he might drop it and squints at the numbers until they make sense so he can safely locate the profile for ‘Bernette’. Carefully, he presses the call button and sways unsteadily on his feet until, after a few rings, she answers.

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42 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

TO THE WIRE

A Chris Evans / Call of Duty AU Fic

My Masterlist can be found HERE, where this will be added.

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

Part Two: Where There’s smoke...

Note: Not sure where I’m going with this but I’ve been a fan of his C.O.D. look since I first saw it. Hopefully, this looks promising but rather than an ongoing series, I see it more as a series of one- or two-shots. Part One is below and Part Two will follow next Sunday following my final spot of editing.

Theme: Enemies to friends to (eventual) lovers. Chris has an ego and believes his own hype, and Martha needs to get a life for herself.

Warnings: Strong language

Word Count: 5.1k

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” came Martha’s exasperated response, hands gripped tightly onto her hips as she did her very best to attempt a more aggressive stance than she was altogether comfortable with. “Months of hard work and now it’s done, just like that?”

She wasn’t sure why she was even questioning it. She could believe it – and expect it – as it had been the case for her on more than one occasion over the last 12 months and she was getting tired of it. She was getting tired of being side-lined.

“I’m sorry. The decision has been made and it’s for your own safety.”

“But what could have possibly changed in the last twenty-four hours?”

It was a valid question and for a brief moment she felt a surge of confidence in her frustration.

Tanner, the shortish, greying intellectual currently sat behind the broad desk that separated them like a protective barrier, appeared resolute in his decision. Even if he had doubts, he wouldn’t let them show. His posture remained relaxed as he leaned back in his leather recliner having barely flinched or moved in the time since she had barged into his office, disappointment etched across her fine features, staring him down like he had just insulted her grandmother. Instead, he regarded her respectfully and with some semblance of understanding of her disappointment at being frozen out yet again from a mission she had worked very hard on. It made her feel a little guilty at her verbal outburst although he had probably heard much, much worse in his forty-plus years with the CIA. He himself had told her as much.

She wasn’t sure if this apparent show of empathy was a good or a bad thing. It certainly didn’t serve to make her feel any better. Deep down, she knew Tanner knew what he was doing. He always gave considered thought to the decisions he made; he wouldn’t be where he was now if he hadn’t. Even deeper down, she knew she wasn’t going to succeed in changing his mind.

“You know as well as I do that intel can change with no notice.” He explained calmly in his soft, Texan drawl. “It’s never ideal to change the format of a mission at any stage of the play but we do what we have to do with what we are given. The team has reason to believe that Haltzar is shifting gear and making a move to exit this Friday night. If we don’t get him then, our chances at ever bringing in Haltzar disappear in the dark, and his little black book goes with him.”

She could appreciate the nuances that went into a plan like this. In just eighteen months, Martha had gone from being a well-liked but rather inconsequential (her words) doctor at Newman & Grey Hospital, working all the shifts she could manage to avoid being home alone with only her thoughts for company, to a valued member of a CIA ‘Special Ops’ Unit that specialised in dealing with situations far beyond the capabilities of ordinary law enforcement. Or so she thought she was.

She listened to Tanner letting her down gently like she was being told she couldn’t have the bike she wanted for Christmas. She also couldn’t shake the feeling this was yet another attempt by Chris Evans to phase her out. She realised she appeared like she was throwing a tantrum because she couldn’t get her own way. It was embarrassing and it made her feel like shit. It wasn’t what she was aiming for when she woke up earlier that morning.

“Listen, Martha, this is in no way a reflection of your work but some people have expressed concern that your being there would draw unwanted attention-”

“-Some people? You mean Chris-”

“-Especially if a member of Haltzar’s crew recognises you from their own intel.” Tanner finished his argument, choosing to ignore hers. “We can’t forget they have been here a long time. They will have scoped the place out for themselves, several times, and if they see you at the hospital, the whole game is up and we’ll have lost nearly eighteen months of work for nothing. I’d like to see you try to explain that to Homeland Security.”

Martha paused in her tracks and tried to avoid Tanner’s careful, sympathetic gaze. Shaking her head in defeat, she loosened her hands from her hips and let them fall limply to her side as she took on board Tanner’s reasoning. Just as she was about to express an apology for her blatant lapse of professionalism in the face of a man who could probably buy and sell what was left of her own family, a lowly whistle came from somewhere close behind her.

Stood still in the corner of Tanner’s office, one boot resting on the panelled wall as though he gave not one care for the probable cost of having his dusty Size 12s scratch the paint off, Chris murmured his disapproval of Martha. She couldn’t quite bring herself to acknowledge his presence, though, preferring to leave him brooding quietly as she attempted to make her way out of the office unscathed.

Even now, after he had sullenly made himself known, she preferred not having to deal with the sight of his smug face at this time of the morning. She could sense him, though. You could always sense when Evans was nearby so it was a complete and utter joke that Tanner was now claiming that she might be the one who would draw attention.

“Well, I would probably call into question the reasons why some people might see me being there as a problem.” She stated matter-of-factly, the words coming out of her mouth before she had the time to edit them. Or stop them altogether as she was quickly wishing she could.

“I’m right here, McLachlan.” Came his bristly tone in response, clearly having had enough of her obstinance.

“Yes, I know, Chris. It’s very hard to miss you.” She snapped, finally conceding to him. All she got in return was a dismissive glare. It only served to wind her up even more.

“Then ask me directly.”

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52 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

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eyes-of-mischief · 2 years ago

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weekly fic recs | 33

prompt: bureaucracy/office au

fandoms: bnha, dc, hq, mdzs

bnha

Heroics: Not Just Punching People Into Buildings, Apparently by stifledlaughter

"In today's practical test, you all will grapple with one of the worst aspects of being a hero," announced Present Mic to class 1-A. "Paperwork!"

---

Sometimes, hero work isn't about capturing villains. It's about trying not to cry on the phone to the insurance agent after being on hold for an hour when they tell you that their company only accepts faxed forms.

He's Our Most Important Member by autumnconcept

As a member of the quirkless side of society, Izuku has long given up his dream of being a hero.

Remind him how he ended up in charge of an entire agency?

Executive Assistant to the Batman by heartslogos

“So what’s someone like you doing working for someone like Wayne?”

“We’re star-crossed,” Tim answers, because clearly this job has only improved his ability to mouth off with a complete and total lack of self-regard.

(Rewrite of my old Assistant!verse)

on my desk by monday by calamityjade

(explicit)

Dick Grayson was tired of living hidden in his father's shadow. He desperately needs to find a space where he can thrive as just himself, and figures seeking out a simple job might be a good start; but being Jason Todd's assistant gives him so much more than he expected to gain. (No capes AU. Jason Todd is a lawyer and Dick is hired as his assistant)

haikyuu

hyogo melon code of conduct by goldplate

(mature)

“You misunderstand me, Miya-san. We’re not here to discuss the legality of your… melons."

Osamu's home garden gets the attention of the municipality's building and lot code compliance office.

the right path by norio

"What do you expect from our company?" the interviewer asked.

A job. A straightforward path, the only concerns about the budget for printer toners. A solitary lifestyle in a cubicle. But Akaashi curled his fingers around his resume and thought wryly that if he truly wanted all that, he wouldn't be applying to an anime company.

mdzs

Best man for the job; a detailed treatise on Chief Cultivation by Aerlalaith

“Just these?” He had thought, perhaps, given Jin Guangyao’s notorious organizational skills, there might be a few more, but it does not overly trouble him.

“Oh no, Chief Cultivator,” Jin Guangtian says. “This is just the index.”

(The peerless Hanguang-Jun faces his greatest challenge yet: bureaucracy).

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart

(explicit)

Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.

Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.

Always Be Closing by betts

(explicit)

Wei Ying’s thumb hovered over Lan Zhan’s number. It would be a brief phone conversation. Not even a minute. He would tell Lan Zhan what needed to be done, and Lan Zhan would say “mn” a bunch of times, and Wei Ying would spiral all day about how much Mr. Hot and Perfect All the Time probably hated his guts, and it would be fine. Emotionally, no different than any other Tuesday.

Fine, sue him, he was a coward. He pulled up a new text and typed, My son is sick today. Going to doctor. Can you do smoothie hut call? 500m CRE + 250m LOC

He sent the text. The ellipses rose. He waited.

Or: During a long overdue divorce and messy custody battle, Wei Ying gets demoted to small business finance. There, he's partnered with a new closer who clearly hates him, until he finds out Lan Zhan is far more verbose—and dare he say flirtatious?—in writing than in speaking

But to be loved like a song you remember Even when you've changed by enbysaurus_rex

The manual was long, but it all boiled down to the same thing-- assess, capture, banish, assess, repeat. Keep the affected area to a minimum. Be proactive in protecting any device that can access the internet. Physical storage areas with names had to be up to standard (file boxes were allowed, so long as the lid was reinforced and could stand up to the particular talisman used), but anything else usually required paperwork and approval, even if it was retroactive. Wangji hoped everything was in file boxes this time, even though he knew it was in vain. None of his storage solutions had ever been declined, but it was a tremendous amount of paperwork, picture taking, and documentation for what was usually a relatively small collection. In this case, it was less likely to be true, and the documentation was likely to be equal to the names warded and sealed. He appreciated that.

#office aus have a special place in my heart #its something about the absolute soul-destroying imagery of corporate bullshit that gets to me #bnha fic recs #bnha #dc fic recs #dc #mdzs fic recs #mdzs #hq fic recs #hq #prompt #bureaucracy #office au #weekly fic recs

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